The Temptation of Shadows
by ughwhouffle
Summary: One night Clara meets a man, known only as the Doctor. He introduces himself as a hired assassin. He'd always hated the phrase "serial killer". On a whim, in a moment, she decides to join him. Partners in crime, he'd said. She didn't realize how much her life would change. She wasn't sure it was for the better.
1. Chapter 1

He grit his teeth, scrubbing his hands rough and raw. Still, he couldn't completely erase the now-faint red glove up to his wrists. He just hoped no one would suspect that it was blood.  
As he exited the bar's cramped bathroom, he noticed a small, dark-haired girl sitting on the stool nearest the bathroom's door. She might have seen. He walked up to her, his hands behind his back mock-politely, and somehow flirted his way to getting her outside, getting her alone. He was taking mental notes as he followed her out. No drink in hands, didn't seem the least bit tipsy. Probably here with friends.  
"How much did you see?" he asked forwardly, turning to stand in front of her. He was acutely aware of the sheathed knife in his boot, hidden under the leg of his pants. Ready to use it if necessary.  
"How much did I-what?"  
"How much did you see?"  
"I don't- who are you?" She seemed confused.  
"Good," he said. "And I guess I might as well tell you. If things get too bad, I could just kill you." He grinned, more of a smirk really, as her eyes widened.  
"They call me the Doctor," he said, his voice low. "I'm a….a consulting criminal, if you will. A hired assassin. Usually hired, anyway."  
"You're a serial killer?" the girl whispered, a horrified expression on her face. Then, reluctantly, it turned into a sly smile.  
"Clara," she said, extending her hand. "And don't they always say, two heads are better than one? I'm smart, I promise." She didn't know why she was doing this. Heat of the moment, maybe?  
It took a moment for him to understand what she'd said. When it'd sunk it, a devious look began to spread on his features. He took her hand, shaking it.  
"Well, then Clara," the Doctor said. "I guess we're partners in crime."

After that, she helped him more and more, started to become the brains of the operation. Made his…missions more efficient. More streamlined, more straight-to-the-point. Less chasing and catching and hunting down. And less chance of being caught. And in a sick, twisted way, Clara began to enjoy it. She began to enjoy the sound of footsteps in dark, midnight alleys. She began to enjoy the grim sound of strangled screams from the throats of victims. The feeling of blood slick on her hands.  
It was never her blood. The Doctor made sure of that. He'd sworn to protect this girl, this innocent girl with a thirst for danger.


	2. Chapter 2

It was dangerous, but the thrill made up for it. The creeping out in the dead of night, the Doctor's hushed voice sending goosebumps up her arms. At the beginning, she felt like she was doing something terribly wrong. She still knew it, but now, she was used to the feeling. Her life was starting to revolve around the Doctor. Around his mystery, around the feeling that was at once right and wrong. She was beginning to look forward to the secret outings. Starting to plan things during the day so she could work best at night. Her friends were starting to ask her what was wrong sometimes. And she realized, with a sort of dreadful feeling, that she didn't care.  
"What's our plan tonight?" he asked, his voice just louder than a whisper.  
"Judy King," Clara said. "She lives on West Bolton. 2374. I've done some research. She's going to a family party tonight at eight. The party's going to run late, we're hoping. We'll catch her on her way home.I'm thinking, just bring your regular knife. Don't wear your usual boots. It's muddy. You'll leave tracks. Also, wear gloves. But you knew that already."  
The Doctor grinned, a smile that was all at once terrifying and inviting. His green eyes glinted as he rubbed his hands together. "Clara Oswald, this is why we're a team. You are brilliant. Absolutely brilliant."  
Clara waited with him for nearly an hour, the anxiety in her stomach starting to feel familiar. They were hidden in an alleyway near where the party was to be held. She closed her eyes, just for a moment. Just for a moment.  
"Clara!" a quiet,sharp voice sliced through her sleep. "Clara,wake up! You feel asleep. You were the timekeeper! Goddammit, we're probably late now..."  
Clara snapped awake, blushing. "I-I'm sorry," she stammered. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep..."  
Her voice was frantic, not because she regretted falling asleep,which she did, but because she feared the Doctor.  
"It's okay," he promised, his voice gentle for a moment. It hardened again when he spoke. "Let's go."  
She followed close behind him, having to take two steps for every one of his. Her heart was still racing. She still didn't know if it was anticipation or fear. Their footsteps were the only sound in the nearly pitch-black night, with the exception of a few late cars in the street. As they approached where they would wait out the last few minutes, her heart rate picked up again. She swallowed, willing herself to calm down.  
Almost involuntarily, she began to think about the first mission they'd gone on. (It was always "mission." She didn't want to use the word "murder".) The man looked a like nice guy, she'd thought. The Doctor had slipped out of the shadows, clamped a hand around the man's mouth. In a moment, there was a slit in his through like a sort of sadistic smile. Blood had begun to stream down the man's throats in deep crimson,almost black rivulets, a sickly river. She'd closed her eyes then, turned away, didn't want to see anymore. But now, as she imagined the thick, heady scent of blood, it seemed almost familiar. Commonplace.  
Clara pushed the thoughts out of her mind, shaking her head to clear her thoughts. She realized she'd fallen a bit behind the Doctor, so she picked up her pace, jogging a few steps to catch up. She sighed as the Doctor made no acknowledgement to her presence. He hardly ever really talked to her, except for planning. He rarely even said hello. But, Clara reasoned, what else did they have to talk about? There weren't many options, really, in the way of small talk.  
"She's not here," he growled, obviously frustrated. "This is where we were supposed to cut her off, right?About three blocks from her house?"  
"Two. Two blocks from her house," Clara reminded him. "See, this is why I'm the brains." she added, more than a little teasing in her voice.  
"True, very true," he muttered, half-hoping she couldn't hear.  
"So!" she interrupted, clapping her hands together quietly. "We're a block away. One more time. What's your plan?"  
"Hide in the alley just behind where her car should be parked. We can jump her as she's getting up. Gloves to hide any fingerprints, boots unlike my usual. The boots will be planted at a random house on the way back."  
"Weapon?" Clara quizzed.  
"The usual. Small steel knife. Stainless. Cleaned just prior, and kept away from any possible places to pick up evidence that could be traced back to me."  
Clara grinned. "Perfect. Okay, let's go. Quickly. We only have so much time."  
The Doctor responded appropriately, speeding up to a rather brisk run. When the arrived at their hiding place, he spun on his heel, crouching down, ready to jump at at any given moment.  
"This is the right car?" he checked.  
Clara looked at it closer. "Yes."  
"Now we wait," the Doctor announced, sitting back on his heels. He held the knife in one hand, the silver blade glinting in the faint moonlight. They waited for a while. Clara started to get a little frustrated when she checked her watch and nearly a half hour had passed.  
"Where is she?" she muttered, her annoyance showing plainly in her voice.  
"Any minute now," the Doctor said through clenched teeth. He was also getting irritated.  
Clara had to hiss his name three times before he looked.  
"Doctor!" she said sharply. "Over there." She pointed, and he followed her gaze. There was a woman lying at the back of the alley. They went to investigate, moving quickly.  
The woman's curly black hair was matted with blood on one side. Her dark skin had been stained a deep maroon by the blood pooling from her throat.  
"This is...this is her," Clara said in disbelief. "Who could've done this?"  
It was a few moments later when she noticed the note. Small, folded paper. It used to be white, she assumed, but was now stained with dirt grime and dried blood.  
"'Hello, Doctor!'" she read aloud. She looked up at the Doctor before finishing the note. "'You're going to have to work harder now. I know this brings you a sick pleasure. Too bad, you're not the only one.'"  
"Does it, for some reason, have a signature? Say who it's from?"  
Clara paused, squinting at the paper in her hands. The hasty scrawl was almost impossible to decipher.  
"Um,yeah," she said. "Someone called the Master."


End file.
